


To Catch a Falling Star

by SweetSorcery



Series: A Tumble of Stars [2]
Category: Lord of the Rings (Movies), Lord of the Rings - All Media Types, Lord of the Rings - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Anal Sex, Dinner, First Kiss, First Time, Holding Hands, M/M, Male Slash, Oral Sex, Romance, Slash
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-11-01
Updated: 2011-11-01
Packaged: 2017-10-25 14:26:35
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,909
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/271288
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SweetSorcery/pseuds/SweetSorcery
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Following their first meeting in "The Grace of Elves", can Elrond and Legolas manage to get through dinner without losing their equilibrium again?</p>
            </blockquote>





	To Catch a Falling Star

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: All canon referred to within belongs to the estate of J.R.R. Tolkien and the keepers of the LOTR movie rights. All fannish additions were created for non-profit, non-infringement entertainment.
> 
> Archiving: Nowhere except here, and not in translated form either.
> 
> Author's Notes: This was written quite a few years ago now, after the LOTR movie trilogy was released. Please note that as far as I stick to canon at all, my stories are movie-based, and book-discrepancies are bound to happen a lot.

No good. No, not that one either. Lord Elrond glared at his empty wardrobe, then at the contents of the same - now strewn over his vast bed. He picked up the midnight blue robe embroidered with white snakes and promptly discarded it as being too extravagant. Then he tested the smooth red silk of his most recent acquisition and set that aside too - definitely trying too hard.

Ah yes. Perfect. He smirked, quite satisfied with his choice. He ran his hand over the heavy outer robe, made of deep burgundy velvet which accented the shade of his own hair. The lining, where it peeked out, was precisely the colour of his dinner guest's eyes. Tiny, near translucent crystals accentuated the high collar, and Elrond knew those crystals caught candle-light in the most enticing fashion. He did not own a lusher, yet more understated, garment. He dressed hurriedly, for he had scarcely twenty minutes left before his guest would be joining him.

When he entered his favourite room - the library, which he found more intimate than the dining room - he surveyed his preparations. The nights were quite cool in the mountains of Imladris, especially now that it was late October, so he had asked for a single fire to be lit in the main fireplace. The only other illumination in the small room came from two bowls of scented, burning oils - sandalwood and meril; the sweet scents lingered in the air, seemingly unperturbed by the openness of the room to the breezy outside world, and the room was flooded with the red light of the setting sun and the warm glow from the fire. Perhaps a candle... Elrond lit a single beeswax column in the center of the oblong table and stood back to delight in the elegant, yet intimate, setting.

He walked across the room, the heavy velvet of his gown whispering over the stone floor, and leaned on the rail of the balcony overlooking the very bridge on which he had 'run into' the Prince of Mirkwood earlier. He smiled, remembering how very unamused he had been during the actual incident. In hindsight, the young prince's clumsiness seemed utterly charming, and it occurred to Elrond that perhaps it was not something he was born with at all but rather a temporary lapse. He dared not think too hard upon it, for he might convince himself into believing it had had something to do with him.

Turning back to the dining table, he considered that he would find out soon enough. Either way, he doubted very much that he would mourn the demise of a few crystal glasses at Legolas' lovely hands.

He asked one of his valets to call on the prince in his quarters, then used the time to select one of the bottles of iced champagne from the silver holder. He had just decided on the cherry flavour and was in the process of uncorking the bottle, when the doors opened and Legolas was announced.

Looking up, Elrond greeted his guest with a gasp from himself and a hiss from the bottle and, more unfortunately still, a foamy trail of red champage bubbling from the bottleneck as the cork shot across the room and landed between Legolas' feet. Taking a moment to close his eyes and consider whether a simple dinner knife could possibly penetrate an elven heart, Elrond reflected. Until he heard soft laughter drifting his way.

"You are a most gracious host indeed, Lord Elrond, to balance out my earlier display in kind."

Elrond forced his eyes open, set down the frothing bottle, and reached a hand out toward his guest. "It has taken me hours to plan this misfortune, so that I may put you at ease." He smiled. "Legolas, join me."

Legolas moved to take the offered hand but noted that cherry champagne was dripping from Elrond's fingers. "Oh, allow me." He picked a napkin from the table and, holding the moist extremity with his fingertips, dabbed at it delicately.

Elrond watched this with amused delight, but his eyes soon roved over his guest, who was now close enough to be blinding him even more mercilessly than he had done on his arrival moments earlier. Legolas frowned in concentration, while Elrond drank in the sight of him - the silk robe of deep gold over matching leggings, the snowy white tunic underneath, the smooth, warm-toned flesh of the long, slender neck and, as the crowning glory, that perfect, perfect face of misty eyes, sloped brows and soft lips.

"Your hand is still sticky, I fear," Legolas said with a frown, but then a wicked little glint came to his eyes and he lifted the napkin to his mouth and moistened it. "Do you mind?"

"Not at all," Elrond croaked.

Legolas dabbed the stickiness from his host's hand tenderly.

"Thank you. Very kind of you." Elrond smiled down at the slightly smaller elf and his smile was returned shyly together with his now dry hand. He doubted he would ever wash it again for the end of his days.

"My pleasure, Lord Elrond."

The younger elf gazed up at Elrond with such delight on his sweet face, the latter found it very difficult indeed to focus on the event at hand, namely dinner. He cleared his throat. "I have asked for our meal to be served as soon as you arrive, Legolas. Shall we sit?" Elrond indicated the chair across the room from the fireplace - he had chosen it for his guest because it would light him up most beautifully. When Legolas nodded, Elrond led him there with one hand barely touching the other's elbow, and pulled the chair out for him, waiting to shift him closer to the table. "I hope the delicacies of Mirkwood do not differ too drastically from our own," Elrond said as he returned to his own chair, eager to put his guest at ease.

Legolas smiled at him across the softly flickering candle. "I doubt that. We delight in fresh berries and dishes prepared from roots grown in our woods. Much the same fare as that on offer in Imladris, I should think." After a brief pause, Legolas added, "Though I would certainly be delighted to be introduced to more unfamiliar treats." He blushed prettily when he caught Elrond's eyes.

"Indeed." Elrond murmured in a low voice, sitting enthralled by Legolas' soft monologue, his chin resting on his curled fingers. "Then I do hope I can offer you something you have never experienced before... Legolas." The last word was spoken roughly and yet as tender as the brush of a lover's hand. Their eyes locked and held for what seemed like hours. And if dinner had been much longer coming, they never might have bothered waiting for it at all.

However, when a silver trolley was wheeled in and plates of food laid out on the table, the two elves diverted their rapt attentions from each other and forced themselves to think of eating instead.

Legolas sampled Elrond's personal favourites - strawberry canapés; followed by herb and ginger rissoles; a salad of endives, moka roots and winter tomatoes; and finally, a dessert of fresh cherries with cream. Throughout the meal, they conversed about their respective realms, Elrond being most curious to learn of Mirkwood, though his queries showed a clear preoccupation with Legolas' own family and situation. Legolas did not seem to mind being the focus of his interest, and obliged him with a smile, while learning all he could about Rivendell and its Lord in particular.

Once their meal was finished and they were left alone - Elrond's servants having retreated - Elrond lifted his long-stemmed glass and sipped from it daintily, before standing and approaching Legolas. "I do believe we behaved well during dinner, would you not agree?" he asked with a smile.

Legolas understood immediately. "Indeed. No spilled drinks, wasted food or other accidents."

"Other accidents?" Elrond asked, smirking.

"Well..." Legolas blushed, standing and backing away from Elrond just a little. "Such as broken glasses, cuts with our dinner knives..." He grappled to think of other examples.

"Oh yes, those kinds of accidents." Elrond diverted his path and Legolas breathed a silent sigh of nervous relief; though it was not silent enough to not be heard by another of his kin.

Elrond smiled, his back to his guest, as he walked to the fireplace and added a single log from the wicker basket beside it. He half-turned and said, "I believe I have promised you a view of the stars from this very balcony."

"So you have," Legolas agreed, and approached the imposing elf gingerly. A sudden nervousness had seized him, and he hoped it would not lead to more embarrassment on his behalf.

Elrond seemed to sense Legolas' concerns, for he smiled warmly and reached out a hand to him. "Come. This is the perfect spot for star gazing." Legolas stepped nearer, resting his own hand atop the offered palm. He felt himself trembling a little when Elrond's fingers curled around his own, but allowed the elf lord to draw him closer to the arched window. "Look, Legolas. You can see most of the night sky from this very spot." Elrond's voice took on a dreamy note. "I have stood here often in the night, attempting to find the most perfect, most beautiful and brightest star of all."

"Have you found it?" Legolas asked with a shy smile.

Elrond's eyes fixed on his own, and Legolas felt the intense gaze as keenly as he would a heated touch to his flesh. Elrond's smile had died, but some trace of it remained within his eyes when he said, "I have." Legolas held his breath, his lashes fluttering for a moment, before he lowered his eyes. Then his lips curved into the tiniest smile. "You enchant me, my prince," Elrond said breathlessly. He lifted the slender hand still in his grasp and touched his lips to it. His heart began to pound fiercely, when he heard Legolas' sharp intake of breath.

"My Lord..." Legolas whispered, stepping a little nearer.

Elrond gazed up from his occupation without ceasing to kiss the treasured hand, one knuckle at a time, then one fingertip at a time. The harsh rasps of breath Legolas emitted were like the sweetest music to him, and he folded the hand over and kissed its palm very lightly.

Legolas gasped when the cool lips touched his warm flesh in such an intimate caress. He swayed a little, nearly falling against Elrond, but steadied himself in time.

"Does your sense of balance desert you once more, my dear?" Elrond asked, amused.

Legolas smiled abashedly. "I wonder if my equilibrium has not been left behind at the borders of Imladris upon my arrival."

"So the beauty of my home unbalances you?" Elrond probed, his eyes gazing nearly deep enough inside Legolas to find the answer for himself. Very nearly, but not quite.

"No." Legolas did not avoid Elrond's eyes this time. "Though your home is majestic and beautiful, it is not what unsettles me."

Elrond lifted his free hand and encircled Legolas' wrist, the thumb caressing the sensitive skin as the other thumb played across the inside of Legolas' palm. Legolas' eyelids fluttered closed and his lips parted for a shaking breath. "Tell me, Legolas." Elrond's voice was a physical presence, its warmth caressing Legolas' face like a sweet, late summer wind, wearing away at the Prince of Mirkwood's self-control.

"My Lord!" Legolas said on an exhale, his eyes once more open and gazing up pleadingly. And when Elrond's lips descended upon the inside of his upheld wrist, he whimpered.

A soft moan from Elrond answered him, and his wrist was released, so that the hand which had held it could cup a smooth cheek and draw his face nearer. "Tell me."

Legolas gulped, his lips close enough now to Elrond's that to purse them whilst raising his chin only a little would result in a kiss. "I saw you..." he whispered.

"Yes?" Elrond prompted, also in a whisper.

"My Lord Elrond... when I saw you, I..." Legolas continued to whisper, "I felt... suddenly weak..." Elrond's eyes lit up, the intricate shades of grey within them hypnotising Legolas. "I was... overwhelmed," the younger elf continued shakily.

"Do you fear me, Legolas?" Elrond whispered.

"I am... not certain," Legolas breathed. "You possess an... intensity... which frightens me." He swallowed. "A little."

Elrond's lips curved into a smile, and they very nearly touched Legolas' in the process. Legolas held his breath. "You must not fear me, my sweet prince," Elrond implored softly.

Legolas' eyes closed at the endearment. "Truly?" he asked.

"Aye, Legolas. I would never hurt you, nor let any harm come to you." Elrond's hand had left Legolas' cheek and was now upon his shoulder and moving to his back. He drew him against himself. "Within my arms, you will always be safe."

"Lord Elrond..." Legolas was trembling, and Elrond could feel his nervous excitement in the racing pulse at the wrist he still held.

"However," Elrond continued, and watched Legolas' eyes widen in anticipation. "I can not say as much for your virtue when you gaze at me this way." Legolas whimpered softly. "Or tempt me thus." Elrond's thumb measured the further quickening pulse. "Tell me, my beautiful star... will you entrust yourself to me?"

Legolas breathed his consent, and before his 'yes' had fully left his lips, they were sealed by the cherry-sweet lips of his host and seducer. When his legs gave in, Legolas was caught easily within Elrond's embrace. His hand had been released upon Elrond's shoulder, and an arm around his waist held him close enough to drive his breath from him. His nape was cupped within a warm, slender hand, over which his hair spilled like a golden waterfall. Elrond's tongue invaded Legolas, searching for and tasting his, exploring the sweet cavern of his mouth with utmost gentleness. Soon though, this gentleness turned to ravishment, spurred on by the low moans the younger elf could not suppress and the trembling of his slender form within the embrace.

Legolas burned. The passion within Elrond's kiss robbed him of his senses, and his surrender was apparent in each moan, the way he clutched the heavy robes under his fingers, the fluttering of his lids. When Elrond released his mouth reluctantly, Legolas gasped and stumbled, only to be picked up easily and carried like a fair maiden across the room to be placed... upon the dining table.

"I believe it is time for an after dinner treat now, my fair prince."

Legolas gasped. "An Imladris delicacy?"

Elrond smiled, the back of his hand stroking down Legolas' cheek. "I intend to make it one." Legolas held his breath, imploring himself not to muse on the meaning of those words just yet. Elrond drew him back to reality. "Though it is imported from Mirkwood." When Elrond's long fingers trailed down Legolas' throat and smoothly parted his outer robe, Legolas gazed at him, delighting in the fire he saw in his host's grey eyes, as the heavy garment was slipped back off his shoulders to pool on the table behind him like liquid gold.

"Do you not find it too simple a treat?" Legolas asked softly.

Elrond tilted his head in confusion as he looked at him. When a slow smile spread across Legolas' face, he laughed. "You are a tease, young prince."

"Is it not you, my Lord, who undresses me with his eyes while his fingers remain still upon my breast?"

Indeed, Elrond found that his hand had stayed upon the prince's heart during their exchange. "You wish me to proceed?" he asked rhetorically, leaning forward.

Legolas raised his face, pressing a clumsy kiss to Elrond's lips and blushing promptly. "I beg you to, my Lord."

"Legolas!" Elrond growled, the sound sending shivers over Legolas' body. His fingers made quick work of the white tunic, snapping open the buttons and parting the silken folds to reveal the smooth, golden expanse of the prince's skin. "By all that is dear to me, Legolas, your beauty surpasses every star in the sky, the light of the moon and every living thing which roams Middle Earth." His eyes rose to meet Legolas' heated gaze and, with a sudden movement, the tunic was gone entirely, and Elrond's lips were upon Legolas' neck, while his hands trailed parallel paths across his shoulders and down his arms.

Legolas threw back his head, arching into the exploring caresses which now travelled over his chest, lingering too briefly on the hardened nubs of rosy flesh, and fluttered across the plane of his stomach. Elrond's hands diverted from their path, moving around the slender waist to draw Legolas to the edge of the table. He sank to one knee, his mouth playing across the warmth of Legolas' flesh while he swiftly removed the soft boots from Legolas' feet. His tongue snaked out when he reached the thin trail of golden hair leading to the younger Elf's last remaining garment.

"Is there nothing I can do for you, my Lord?" Legolas' request was husky and urgent, made more so by the feel of Elrond's hands caressing his slim ankles and sliding up the backs of his calves.

Elrond gazed up into dark grey eyes. He ceased his oral exploration in favour of sliding the smooth silk leggings down and over Legolas' hips. "Your eagerness charms me, but we have much time yet."

"Yes." Legolas sighed, and his heart beat faster when he saw the pure adoration on Elrond's face as he first gazed upon his weeping arousal. When Elrond retrieved a drop from its tip with a trembling finger and licked it off his skin, Legolas whimpered. Now Elrond's hands removed the leggings entirely and parted Legolas' slender thighs. He pressed his lips to the soft flesh of their insides, tormenting Legolas in the process. "My Lord... please!" Elrond smirked, his lips moving upwards excrutiatingly slowly.

Legolas, growing impatient, looked about himself and spotted a forgotten glass of cherry champagne. With a wicked glint in his eyes, he dipped a finger in the pink liquid and drew a moist trail up the length of his arousal. Elrond gasped as he watched, his eyes wide and almost black. Then he looked up at Legolas and groaned.

"Taste me, my Lord!" Legolas issued the command harshly, arousal deepening the timbre of his voice.

Elrond nodded and obeyed, glad of his hands on Legolas' hips when the younger elf pushed himself deeper into his mouth with a groan. He barely tasted the cherry flavour over Legolas' own, much sweeter taste. Yet he suckled what there was of it before exploring more slowly, with gentle licks and long, slow strokes that caused a violent trembling in the slight body he held at his mercy. When Legolas' fingers threaded through his hair, however, Elrond swallowed deeply, and was rewarded with a surprised, ecstatic cry. A few tongue strokes later, and prompted by his fingers gently seeking entrance to Legolas' body, that reward was yet surpassed as the elf lord's mouth was flooded with Legolas' release - the accompanying groan nearly caused his own.

Legolas panted hard, falling back to lie upon his spread out golden cloak.

Elrond rose to his feet and smiled down at the very picture of a fallen angel. "How do you continue to grow more beautiful all the time, my prince?"

Legolas blinked up at him, his cheeks flushed and his lips parted. "Oh, my Lord. You have undone me so."

Elrond leaned over him. "Then you must give me leave to repair the damage." He kissed Legolas tenderly and felt long arms winding around his neck. When he drew back, Legolas still held onto him and was thus drawn back up to sit before him. Elrond could not help but drink in his glorious nakedness and the shimmering of a few stray drops on the heaving stomach and parted thighs.

Legolas followed his gaze and smiled. "I give you leave to do with me as you will." And he wrapped his legs around Elrond's hips loosely, pure challenge in his eyes.

With a growl, Elrond clutched Legolas close, his lush robes gliding against the naked, soft flesh of the young elf. He took his mouth in another devastating kiss while Legolas fumbled with his clothing, managing to divest Elrond of little more than his outer robe, before moaning in frustration as his fingers became entangled in the intricate sling buttons of the grey inner robe.

The soft rumble of Elrond's laugh made Legolas smile bashfully. "I fear any trace of finesse has once more deserted me."

Elrond's gaze softened. He covered Legolas' hands on his chest with his own and leaned down for a slow, tender kiss. "And I adore you for it, my prince." Legolas blushed. Helpfully, Elrond freed the trapped digits from his robe, kissed them, and undid the garment effortlessly.

It fell open, and Legolas tilted his head and sighed softly, before reaching out and touching the pale creamy skin ever so lightly. "You are beautiful, my Lord."

"Elrond," he was corrected.

"Elrond." Legolas infused the name with great tenderness. Then he added, "Melethron." His eyes gazed up at Elrond, and his mouth was once more covered, intruded upon and filled with a searching tongue. Eagerly, Legolas slipped his arms around Elrond's middle and pressed close, his fingers dipping beneath the waistband of the grey pants and pushing them down impatiently until the Elf Lord's arousal was freed from its confines.

Elrond groaned, clutching at Legolas hard as he hissed against the side of his neck. "Do I have your permission to possess you, Legolas?" He kissed the tender flesh beneath his lips. "Body and soul?" A flick of the tongue, answered by a sharp inhale. The tongue travelled upwards to a pale ear. "Now, my love..."

"Yes!" Legolas gasped. "Yes, oh yes..." With a most graceful flurry of motion, Elrond wrapped Legolas' legs around his middle, drew him tightly against himself, and entered him, glad for the absence of pain mortal men would experience at such a frantic coupling. Legolas shuddered, his fingers digging into Elrond's back. He felt filled and content and yet, desperate for more. "Harder, my Lord!"

And Elrond drew back and again pushed inside him. Deep. And again. And again. Angling his thrusts differently each time until Legolas cried out in pleasure, burying his nails in Elrond's flesh. Oh yes... perfect now. Elrond came with a shudder and a deep groan, stifled against the side of Legolas' neck, and his burning release took Legolas over the edge as well. Clinging to each other, the two elves thrust once, twice more, draining every possible second of pleasure from each other's body.

Then they were still, and Legolas found himself enfolded within Elrond's loose, wide open robe, and he snuggled close, smiling.

Elrond rested his chin on the crown of Legolas' head, his own lips curved into a contented smile as well. "So that is what it feels like when a star falls from the heavens..." he mused languidly. "To come to rest within my heart." He lifted Legolas' chin with two fingers and gazed at him lovingly. Legolas smiled, his eyes bright and full of promises Elrond had barely dared to hope for - the sight left him breathless.

"Thank you, my Lord," Legolas said softly. "For giving it a home."

 

The End


End file.
